


Mixed Signals

by phoenixjustice



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics)
Genre: Comic Spoilers, F/F, F/M, Season/Series 11 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-01-25 21:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12541700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixjustice/pseuds/phoenixjustice
Summary: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.Set during Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife (season 6), with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything in-between.Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?





	1. Fire and Flames

Mixed Signals

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for future graphic sexual content, language, etc.

Pairing: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.

Setting: Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife, with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything inbetween.

Summary: Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?

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Chapter One - Fire and Flames

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The Shenlong Dragon.

Dark, unfathomable eyes. Purple and red skin slithering this way and that way in the sky.

The fire...

She has only a moment to recognize it, as all is turned to cinders around her.

She was the last one left. The only one. One by one, they had all fallen, despite how hard they worked, despite how hard  _she_  had worked to keep them all safe. She had failed.

She can only think of one thing in that moment. Can picture it effortlessly.

" _Spike."_

Her eyes wrench open and she gasps. Darkness. It was dark. The open, burned smell, of San Francisco replaced with something narrow, tight, and cold. It takes a few moments of panicked gasping, already feeling the lack of much air around her, but she soon recognizes it for what it was. She recalled the feeling well.

Dark.

Closed.

_Coffin._

Had she... _how_  had she? There had been nothing,  _nothing._  No way out, no miracle at the last moment, no  _Vampyr_  book at hand to try and write them out of the situation. They had failed. Had the Powers did this? It was a thought she would have to ponder on further-after she clawed her way out of her coffin once more.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She gasps as she finally finds purchase on the solid ground once more. Any strength lost by her dead body was filling in her, as if it had never left it. She can feel herself trying to gain her bearings for a moment, eyes blinking the blurriness away.

As always, she seemed to defy things as a Slayer. Who could say they had come back to life more than once? Or digged themselves out of their own coffin? The latter, of course, being something much less fun than the former.

She looks around gasping as she smells it ( _Fire)_. Had the dragon somehow followed her? But no, it was simply the fire that had been thrown around by the biker demons. She sees the signs of it once more as she makes her way through town. Even knowing what it was actually from, she still has to steel herself for a moment against the smell, the sight, and the thoughts that it brings. It was all too much, too soon, but she had no choice but to keep moving her feet forward. The alternative was one she couldn't even think about (she had, once, after digging herself out of her grave, but no longer.)

She couldn't let them down, her family, let  _him_  down, the greatest love of her life. No matter what. So she steadies her breath and takes a step forward, then another, and another, until she is moving quickly through town.

It had been a few years now, since the fall of Sunnydale (from her perspective, anyhow.) What happened now? Back then it had been such a blur for most of it (until one brief shining moment when she feels wholly herself, pre Jump, when he looks at her-) but she can remember enough.

The biker demons.

By now they'd be ready to tear the Buffybot apart. Her friends would be scattered across the town for a bit, until meeting at the Magic Box (things they had told her later.) Dawn and...and Spike would be off riding around town, until Dawn found the remains of the Buffybot and learning the truth about her resurrection, she'd look for Buffy in the last place she had been before her death; Glory's Tower.

Should she...should she let things play out like that again? Maybe she should instead go the Magic Box. Or...no. Straight home? Or...

She lets out a wheezing gasp. It was too much.  _Too much._  The fire and the pain and the  _loss._  These were not the same people she had fought in kinship with in great battles in San Francisco and abroad. They were her family, yes, but they were still so... _young._  Naive in many ways, yet. She  _couldn't-_

Her eyes pop open when she hears the revving of motorcycles and her feet take her in their direction without her thinking of it.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She doesn't make it to stop them from ripping from the Buffybot apart, but it sees her. Knows who she is. It's the last coherent thought she will have for minutes.

Her instinct takes over, the  _Slayer_  takes over, and she gives it free rein.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She gasps, looking around wildly, and finds herself standing in the same general area. The ground is littered with the parts of the demons. All of them. All that she had fought with initially with the others, all taken apart, obviously by her own hands (her already bloody hands all the more bloody with the blood of the demons.)

She spares but a moment for the Buffybot ( _recognition)_  before running.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Fire.

It engulfs him, his entire being inside and out. The pain is unimaginable. But it isn't only pain. There is something like... _life_  in it and he cannot fathom that. Though Buffy had declared him Champion (something he could never have pictured, even in his wildest dreams)-and he had taken up the mantle of it willingly-he hadn't expected the Powers would ever look upon him with anything resembling... _good._

He had done a lot of terrible things in his life (and having a soul certainly didn't absolve him of that; it just made the guilt much larger) and certainly the soul put perspective on that. Did he regret it? Regret getting it? No. He couldn't. Even if it caused a lot of pain, it let him get close to Buffy. No matter what, no matter how much he had to go through, that would  _always_  make it worth it.

His thoughts coalesce to one final thing. The thing that made it all worth it.

_I love you._

Flames. Everything burned away. Gone.  _He_  was gone. He was-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He gasps, eyes flying open. He looks down at his hands. No burn marks. No fire, no flames. They were as clear as could be. But the flame... he smells flame. He looks around wildly for a few moments, trying to figure out what was going on.

This was Sunnydale. But not Sunnydale as he had come to know it in his final moments. This was...

He pauses, hearing the revving of motorcycles, sees the wanton destruction and fire and it hits him like a freight train; this was the past. Not just any day, of course, but the day (or rather night) of Buffy's resurrection.

How...?

"It can't..." He mutters to himself. That couldn't be possible. Sure, crazy things happened in the world (he was a  _vampire,_ after all) but time travel? He hadn't heard of anything like that. He seriously doubted this was Heaven or the heavenly dimensional equivilant. If it was Hell, or its equivilant, this wouldn't have been what he picked. So...no. This was...

He pinches his arm. It certainly hurt. Real, then? How had he come back?

He swallows hard. Could he dare believe it? Could this be...could it be his reward for willingly become a Champion and save the world? To be able to live life over again.

As he looks around, realizing he's alone, he only has one word on his mind as he heads to his motorcycle.

_Buffy._

It's then that he glances at the Buffybot and frowns, when he sees the complete carnage around her, around him, that certainly hadn't been there the first time (the first time had been merely the Buffybot's parts scattered everywhere.) There hadn't been demon parts around. There were now. It looked like they had been decimated in quick succession (the smell of them was too fresh, so he knew that others hadn't died earlier and then some died later. No these had died relatively quickly to one another.)

He spotted no weapons around. Only gore. And blood.

The thought hits him again, as he gets onto the motorcycle.  _Buffy._

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It's a near virtual ghost town as he rides through. It looked as though, as the last time, that even the other demons and vampires of the city had mostly kept their heads down away from this mess. Never let it be said that a lot of the supernatural folk in Sunnydale were  _smart_ , but at the same time they were not  _stupid_  either. It was a recipe for disaster to try and be around in this (as folk like the biker demons, the Hellions, would take down  _anyone_  in their vicinity, human or not), so most kept their heads down and waited for the initial assault to die down.

He had a decision to make as he rides through Sunnydale. Knowing what he did of the past, did he go straight back to Revello Drive or does he venture to Glory's Tower? The Magic Box? Should he... A thought hits him then and nearly paralyzes him in thinking it. What if him coming back somehow kept Buffy from being resurrected? While he certainly didn't want her to suffer like she did the first time around after her resurrection-(" _Ask me again why I could never love you.")("I love you.")_  if he was somehow the cause of hurting her again, in any way...he could never live with himself. She had forgiven him, despite how much he might not deserve it. She had declared him Champion and he wanted to be worthy of that title.

To be worthy of  _her._

He rides.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She looks at it from afar this time, not wanting to relive or revisit the Tower in any big capacity. That time had passed for her. She had moved past both her own Death Wish before jumping as well as the darkness that gripped her for a long time after her resurrection after.

She was not that person anymore. She had learned and grown since then. The Buffy then would be astonished at the Buffy she had become. She liked to think she had largely grown from her mistakes back then, the stubborness and arrogance (for the most part.) She didn't deny her feelings anymore. She looked at the world differently, instead of the black and white view she had so desperately tried to hold onto (despite everything around her telling her it was  _wrong._  And it  _was.)_

That was (from what it looked like to her, as all indications showed that she was indeed back in time) something she had to try and figure out. Should she suddenly show a marked difference in her personality, what would they think? It was something to think about.

"Buffy?" A tremulous voice speaks behind her.

She turns to see Dawn looking at her, her eyes wide and large in her pretty face. She could already see signs of the maturing Dawn's body, voice, and self would take, seeing her there. But she could also see her little sister, young, and in desperate need for her sister whom she had lost. This was not the Dawn she had left, the Dawn who faced the Dragon head on. But this was Dawn all the same and she loved her.

She smiles. "Dawnie." And holds out her arms.

Dawn runs into her arms, crying, leaving Buffy to stroke her hair tenderly as she holds her.

" _Buffy."_  Dawn sobs.

"I'm here, Dawnie. I'm..." She swallows. "I'm home."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

There were a few lights on at the house when he arrives, but that could just have been from where Dawn and he (past he) had been in the house. The light upstairs was on in Buffy's room. Was...had that been on the last time? He couldn't recall. Even if it had been just yesterday that it had happened to him, he was sure he couldn't have recalled then either; he had been too worried for Dawn's safety-and then too struck into awe and silence at seeing Buffy back to life.

He swallows hard against emotion in his throat and makes his way to the door, opening it swiftly.

"Dawn!" He bellows. Deja vu had nothing on this situation. "Dawn, are you there?"

"I'm here!" A voice yells back to him from upstairs. She was fine. But did that mean-

If he had been suddenly struck blind, deaf, and robbed of all senses, he would still know, with an absolution that no one could shake from him, that this was Buffy before him, coming down the stairs. It was  _Buffy._

"Look-" Dawn starts.

"Slayer." He whispers reverently.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Slayer."

She has to fight everything within her not to show what hearing that did to her. Every fiber of her is filled with longing, wishing desperately to reach out to him, but now knowing how. Did she... _could_ she? This was Spike, no doubt of that. But it wasn't  _her_ Spike. The one whom she had been through trials and tribulations. He knew the horror of fighting Glory, the seriousness of fighting Adam and Angelus, sure (and she would never take those things lightly), but he hadn't dealt with the Troika, hadn't dealt with the First, hadn't dealt with Twilight or Zompires or-or-

"Your hands." His voice says softly.

She pauses, not looking at him. It was very like what he had said the first time around, but not quite the same. But to be fair, she should probably be more shocked if he spoke the same exact things as the last time, right?

"They were like that when I saw her," Dawn says. "I dunno how they got like that."

"I do. Clawed her way out of her coffin, ain't I right?" He asks her.

She looks at him directly now and her breath is nearly stolen from her. Those eyes. You could be lost in those beautiful blue eyes of his.  _He_  was beautiful (and always had been so, even when she wanted to deny that to herself. It had become increasingly hard, over time, to reconcile the Buffy that had initially come to Sunnydale to the Buffy she had become.)

"Yeah." She says, quietly. But not filled with the misery she once felt after coming back to life. "That's what I had to do."

Spike's eyes fill with an understanding that few could replicate. "Had to do it myself." He gestures her forward and she walks into the living room-hearing him task Dawn with getting bandages and the like (and once again the deja vu is strong)-before he comes in. She has to let out a small breath at the sight of him once more sitting before her on the table, taking her (shaky, they had to be shaky) hands into his cool ones.

There's a pause. Not enough to be uncomfortable. It feels more thoughtful. And solemn. She can see the weight of years in his eyes as he looks at her.

She starts to speak (anything to try and help distract him from that pain in his pretty eyes). "How long was I gone?"

He looks at her almost startled for a moment. "A...hundred and thirty seven days yesterday, a hundred and thirty eight today." He smiles a bit ruefully. "Suppose today doesn't count though, does it?"

He stares at her for a long moment before speaking again. "And...how long was it for you? Where you were?"

_"Hello cutie."_

_"You're_ _**not** _ _friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood... blood screaming inside you to work its will._ _**I** _ _may be Love's Bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it."_

_"They're strong, and I can't fight. If they get in, I don't know if I can protect you."_

_"I know you'll never love me. I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man. And that's..."_

_"You don't belong here. You're something ... you're better than this."_

_"I love what you are, what you do, how you try.I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."_

_"Buffy-"_

_"Buffy!"_

_"Buffy..."_

_"Slayer?"_

_"I've never regretted it, Buffy. Loving you. Not really. Everything I went through, to get to this place, here and now? I'd do it ten times over to be the man I am, to be_ _**worthy** _ _of you."_

_"Buffy! Oh god, pet, why did you stay? I'm not worth it! You're-i love you, Buffy. I know that you know that, but if this is going to be the last time, I want to say it as much as I can. I love you, Buffy. I always will."_

"Longer."

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


	2. The Days

Mixed Signals

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for future graphic sexual content, language, etc.

Pairing: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.

Setting: Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife, with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything inbetween.

Summary: Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Chapter Two - The Days

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Something catches her attention, amidst the confusion and pain of reliving memories.

"...a hundred and thirty seven days you said?" That was different. The bikers had shown up the same though, even though it was earlier?

He blinks at her for a moment, obviously a bit startled. "Oh. No, I...meant a hundred and forty seven days." He smiles a bit ruefully. "A few events, as of late, have shocked me a bit."

"Right." She says softly. She pauses a moment before speaking again. "What do you-"

"Buffy!"

She's startled, as is Spike, with the sudden intrusion of all the Scoobies (save Giles) into the house and living room.

"Oh god. Buffy! You're-" Willow starts.

"I guess the spell worked after all." Anya remarks, in her usual mild tone.

"Spell? What spell?" Dawn asks, coming back into the room, bandages and the like in her hands, looking back and forth between the other Scoobies.

Spike's eyes widen and he stands up, his hands leaving her grip and he looks at them angrily.

"I got it." He hisses, eyes flashing. "It was  _you_  who did it, brought her back! At first I thought it was Dawn, but she wouldn't be  _stupid_  enough to try and-"

"She did before." Anya points out, though in not any way maliciously. "With her mother."

"Guys." Buffy says.

"She's  _fine!"_  Willow insists. "Look at her! I didn't go into this  _blindly!_  None of us did!"

"Guys!" Buffy repeats.

"All of you?" Dawn whispers loudly.

"Not  _me!"_  Spike hisses. "They kept to themselves. All that time I... when I helped you that, in this, summer and you kept me in the sodding  _dark_  about something like this!"

"I thought you'd be  _happy,"_  Xander says. "Don't tell me you're not happy to see her again!"

"I-"

" _Guys!"_  Buffy shouts.

They all jump, startled, and she stands. She looks at Spike briefly before looking at them.

"Oh, Buffy," Tara says softly. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Do you need anything?" Willow asks urgently, eyes worried.

 _Spike._  She thinks, but she of course does not voice that thought. Everything was still much too fresh, still hurt too much. "I-I think I'd like to rest."

After what happened to her, sleep would not come easily to her. Not for a long time, most like, but she needed  _space._  If she ever wanted to try and sort through these emotions, then she needed space. Not like the past her needed the space (she would not ever go through those self-destructive tendencies ever again if she could help it)

"Of course," Willow says. In her face, Buffy can see the tiredness, the weariness of the ritual she had been through, as well as the happiness and worry as she looked at Buffy.

To be angry at Willow, or the others for her resurrection was something she couldn't do any longer. Although she didn't know the exacts of how  _she_  got back, she couldn't be angry at life anymore. Couldn't be mad at the Scoobies for wanting to see her back to life again. Having had the years past her initial second resurrection, she could see things in a much different way than she had the first time around (not being bound by dark anger and sadness again.)

She could easily have said things like 'Why didn't you  _check_ where I was before you resurrected me?!' When the answer was that, no Willow couldn't have. Not so easily, anyhow. If it had been the Willow that had come into her own in such a significant way in San Francisco, then  _maybe._  But even  _then,_  there were an infinite number of universes.

It was easy-in hindsight-to say Buffy had went to Heaven or a Heavenly equivilent, but there was no  _guarantee_  of that. Willow had no way of knowing, same as the others, where Buffy had ended up. She had jumped in a 'portal' that had been the gateway to all universes, so yes, Buffy could have ended up anywhere. And given the nature of the things pouring out of the portals when Buffy had jumped in? It was a fair assumption she had ended up in a Hell like dimension.

She also could have said 'You left me to dig my way out of my own coffin!' Which, again, was also true, but it wasn't the whole story either. Willow (and the others) hadn't been able to complete the resurrection ritual. It  _had_  been enough to revive Buffy, but she shouldn't have been in her coffin when that happened (talking to Willow about that, years later, confirmed that.)

She says none of those things. Instead she smiles at her friends, her  _family,_  and says a quiet goodnight as she walks past them. As she walks up the stairs, it's then she has the excuse to really look at Spike (as he's still standing there amongst them, an untold amount of emotions in those deep blue eyes.)

"Thank you." She murmurs. A thank you to so many things, least of all that, although she may not be where she once was, she was still surrounded by those she loved most. Surrounded by the man whom she had come to love more than she thought a person could love something.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The moment Buffy is upstairs and out of sight, he is out the front door, feet leading him to the tree in front of the Summers' home, making him keenly feel the deja vu of it all all the more keenly. And once more, as before, he can feel the tears on his face. This time the reasons are even more potent, much more realized.

_I love you._

_No you don't, but thanks for saying it._

Why hadn't he accepted it then? It wasn't out of malice, it was out of the desire to keep her from harm, to make sure she would leave the Hellmouth, leave Sunnydale, leave  _him,_  so he could save the world. Because a world without her-whether he lived in it or not-was not a world worth living.

Over a hundred days for her, much longer for him, but over a hundred for her... this Buffy whom had already seen and done so much, felt so much grief and loss at her young age. She was not the Buffy he had come to know so greatly-and love all the more-but she was still her in all those ways. Even if this Buffy didn't love him, she...

He swallows hard, jaw clenching. He shouldn't have left. It's a thought he has as he hears the other Scoobies finally break apart, with Willow and Tara heading up to bed and Xander and Anya leaving. Hearing them leave the front this time leaves him ample time to hide his presence from them until they're gone.

He wipes away the remaining tears. They had no place here, not now. His own sacrifices and pains all paled-as they always did to him-to  _hers._  That thought is how he finds himself standing guard once more at her tree (just like those, what felt like, long ago days, when he had hoped but to see a glimpse of her in her window. Beauty effulgent.)

Over a hundred days... a hundred...a hundred...

He clutches his head for a moment, hissing in pain. Coming back after such a traumatic incident ( _Flames. He could still feel the pain of it, the heat of it, even now. Buffy-)_ must have scrambled his brain a bit (but he still berates himself mentally over it. After all, how could he forget something as significant as how many days she had been gone?)

The light in her window comes on suddenly and before he can even think about moving out of her sight, she's in the window, looking down at him. Their eyes meet and if he had breath to breathe, it would have all left him then.

"Buffy." He whispers.

He starts to say something else, but stops, startled, when he sniffs something new in the air: tears. She had been crying. She  _was_  crying.

" _Please."_ She says, hands gripping the windowsill as she looks down at him, her soft and young face scrunched in obvious pain. "I-mean. I'm-I'm sorry." She loosens her grip on the windowsill and starts to turn away.

"Buffy!"

She looks back at him and he swallows.  _I love you._

"Wait for me."

She nods and he hurries back inside the house, not seeing her mouth the words  _Always._


	3. Bed, but no Breakfast

Mixed Signals

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for future graphic sexual content, language, etc.

Pairing: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.

Setting: Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife, with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything inbetween.

Summary: Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?

A/N: Flashbacks in  _italics._

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Chapter Three - Bed, but no Breakfast

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He's quick of foot to get back into the house. By now the witches and the Bit have gone into their rooms (though he knows from the small sounds than none are yet asleep.) He's quick to get inside, quick up the stairs even, until he reaches the final one. He pauses, emotion clogging his throat, threatening to overwhelm him. How should he, how  _could_  he, approach this?

He knew Buffy well. Better than she knew, but all the same, this Buffy had been through death two times over now, had been through trauma and strife and very little rest. What would be good for her? But she had  _cried._  She  _wanted_ to see him. That, more than anything, is what pushes him to put his feet on the landing upstairs, to walk past the witches' room, past Dawn's room, to get to hers.

He stops when he sees the door open. Just a crack, but enough to surprise him.

"Spike?" She whispers.

He takes that as permission enough and pokes his head in.

"Slayer?" He asks.

She looks up at him from her place on her bed, where she sat. She looked nervous and tired. He could still see the trails of tears that were drying on her face, could smell the salt in the air.

"Come in."

He closes the door behind him and walks up to her, hands in his pocket, unsure of himself, unsure of where he stood in her eyes right now. Her hands start to move forward, before stopping, putting her hands in her lap. She looks away, but she doesn't seem distant in the ways he could remember.

" _I didn't forget, y'know." "Forget what?" "I-"_

He winces a bit, his head still feeling tender. Well he  _had_  just got thrown from Sunnydale's Hellmouth back right into the fight, so it was no wonder. He also wasn't getting any obvious 'Leave me alone!' signals from her, consciously  _or_  unconsciously, so he gingerly moves over to sit next to her.

"I-" Buffy starts, then stops. She looks down at her hands.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, luv." Spike reassures her.

"It's hard." She finally whispers. "I don't know what to do. Everything is-" He braces himself, steels himself for those nearly same or possibly even the same words of before, when she tells him that her friends, her  _family_  had unknowingly pulled her out of Heaven. She glances at him for a brief moment, almost shyly. "I-don't know where I stand with you."

He stares at her. "Buffy?" He asks confusedly.

"Can we-" She shrugs helplessly. "Can we forget about any possible confusion or-or anything else for now and you can just hold me?"

She looked so earnest, sad and-desperate almost. The look on her face melts his heart. God, he never stood a chance at  _not_  loving her, did he? If he hadn't fallen in love with her the moment he first laid eyes on her, then it had to have been soon after.

"Anything you want, pet." He says hoarsely.

He stands briefly to take off his coat, folding it and setting it down before moving back to the bed. She looks at him for a moment before scooting back onto the bed. She still wore the clothes she had on when he sees her again and something jumps out at him, making him curse loudly, startling her.

"Did I-"

"Your hands, luv."

She stops whatever she was going to say, looking down at her hands. They were still red and raw from where she had clawed her way out of her own coffin (he remember  _that_  feeling all too well, the smell of dirt and blood and grime, and then that break of air, feeling it all around you (even if you, like him, didn't need it anymore) and how everything felt different (sometimes not for the best reasons, but different nevertheless.)

"Oh." She says, surprised. "I-forgot about them."

He laughs, surprising both her  _and_ himself. The situation she had gotten them in wasn't funny by any means, but the tone in her voice had been so earnest and- _herself_  that he couldn't help but laugh.

"Had a bit of a long day, I expect." He says, amused.

She glances up at him then and their eyes connect. In one brief instant, everything disappears- _everything-_ and it's just him and her. And for that one brief moment, everything comes to him again and he  _remembers._  He remembers the  _pain_  and the  _scorching sounds_ -

And just like that the moment passes and he remembers none of it after.

He looks over at the nightstand and sees bandages and ointments sat on it (Dawn. It had to have been her.) He grabs the lot and sits next to Buffy again, this time with more of a clear purpose, something he could focus on easier. He takes her hands without thinking but her hands only briefly tense in his before they relax and takes to cleaning them carefully, pausing only when she lets out a hissed breath.

"Too rough?" He rumbles softly. "M' sorry, pet."

"It's okay." The humor from a few moments ago had evaporated, leaving a quiet between them that he wasn't sure how to mend. They were talking, but not  _talking._  He could all but  _hear_  the tears in her voice, even if he somehow  _couldn't_  smell the beginnings of her tears, and he knew as well as her that it wasn't from her hands getting fixed up.

"It's not." He says, looking at her before looking back down at her hands. Small and dainty they were, wringing Death through gentle hands. "But it's okay. Take...as much time as you need, Buffy. Alright? No matter what pressures you might feel now or feel later. Don't let your friends push you, or your Watcher, or your sister even. Take all the time you need to-"

What? Feel well again? Certainly wasn't as easy as it sounded; he had been through that himself, often enough. And she? Well, she had been through enough trauma, his poor girl, for  _ten_  people.

"-rest up." He finishes.

It's quiet again (and by now, he can-if he listens closely-the slowing heartbeats of Red, Glinda, and the Bit, letting him know they had finally fallen asleep) and it isn't until he finally bandages her up that she speaks again.

"And you?" She asks quietly.

"Me?" He asks, confused. He pats her hands gently. "There, all done. What was it you said, pet? What about me?"

"You said...my friends, and Giles, and Dawn. But not you."

Oh. What he had just said? She had been listening closely then (honestly he wasn't sure at that point if she had been listening or stuck in her own painful memories.)

"I wouldn't ever push you, Buffy." He winces as memories instantly come to him. Ones he wished he could forget..no, that he could undo. He had been the cause of some of her own trauma (though this Buffy hadn't experienced it, thank christ, and certainly wouldn't ever now) and he couldn't ever undo it. "Not if I could ever help it."

He could only show her, every day, that he loved her and that he wouldn't ever let her faith she had placed in him (she had placed her  _faith_  in him. A man would have to be robbed of all senses not to realize the magnitude of that) go astray. Even if this Buffy couldn't ever come to love him, he would always be there for her, for this family that she had inadvertently created when she came to Sunnydale.

She moves to lay on the bed now and turns to look at him, silent, invitation and hesitation in her eyes. He holds back a swallow and dumps his boots onto the floor. They tumble, dirty, on the floor but she seems to take no notice of them, her eyes on him as he climbs onto the bed. She instantly turns in his direction when he starts to get settled on the bed.

All the times that he had spent with Buffy in his arms, those few glorious times, it had never been in her bed. That had been one of the things he had been kept at bay from, one of the many things (for a time.) She had let him inside of her body, but her heart and her trust had been things much harder gained.

He gathers her up in his arms and he isn't sure which of them is trembling most.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_The smell of burning flesh is strong and the pain is pure agony upon her skin. But she cannot falter now. She has to remember what this is all for. She cannot fail. She_ _**can't.** _ _She-_

She awakens with a small gasp, looking around wildly for a moment, heart thudding in her chest. It's only when sleep fades away just enough and she recognizes Spike is still in bed with her, holding her close, his boyish face relaxed in sleep that she starts to relax again.

Not...hers. But also  _absolutely_  hers. She knew that was something she'd have to work out soon enough, but for now...despite whatever signals might be crossed between them, it was just the two of them, Buffy and Spike. And  _that_  could let her rest.

She sleeps.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Should we bother her?" Willow asks in a quiet voice, mostly to herself, biting on her lip.

"I know you're worried, sweetie." Tara says, looking at her girlfriend as they walk out of their room, on the way to Buffy's. "But I'm sure she could use some breakfast."

They had talked over things a bit, before managing to fall asleep (the nights events plus all the energy taken out of them from the spell itself had exhausted them all greatly) but there still were things left up in the air. For Tara, she definitely didn't want to step on any toes here, especially Buffy's, but her own nurturing instinct was kicking in, making her want to help in any way she could.

It was a feeling she hadn't been able to foster or think about when she had been with her family-well, the blood related people she had been around. It was  _these_ people, these witches and ex-demons, and humans and vampires and Slayers that had proven themselves her  _true_  family and she could never repay them enough for that. She wanted to do her part to protect this small little family of theirs, a family she never could have imagined ever having.

"Buffy?" Willow asks, voice still quiet as she starts to slowly open up Buffy's door (after a knock gets no answer.) "We thought you might like break...fast."

They both stop short in the doorway, looking at the strange tableau of Buffy laying in bed with Spike,  _entwined_  with Spike. Both of them looked at peace. She finds herself smiling softly; surprised, to be sure, but how could she try and pull them apart? Buffy definitely deserved to find some semblance of peace, after all she had been through, but so did Spike.

Tara had seen the devastation that Buffy's death had caused him, from the beginning when they first see her body after her jump and the days after. She knew he had only managed to go on, tough but gentle (she hesitated to say soul as, being a vampire, he didn't have one, but Spike was unlike almost any vampire she had ever encountered) spirit.

"Let them sleep in a bit, sweetie." Tara tells Willow, gently grasping her elbow, leading her away from the door, closing it softly behind her.

"Was that-" Willow seemed much more baffled than Tara did, which Tara wasn't all too surprised at; Willow had known Buffy- _and_  Spike-for much longer than she had, after all.

"It was." Tara says plainly. Willow turns to look at her, shocked, as if not expecting the agreement from Tara. She smiles at Willow, stroking her hair a bit. "How did it look, Willow?"

"Huh?"

"How did they look?"

Willow stops, glancing at the door then back at her girlfriend.

"Happy." Willow says, surprise coloring her voice.

"The first thing Buffy could use is happiness, don't you think?" Tara asks her.

"Of course!" Willow is vehement in that. "But...it's..."  _Spike._  Willow doesn't say it, but Tara knows it's on the tip of her tongue. "What if he's taking advantage of her?"

Even if she was going by their body language in bed alone, Tara knew that wasn't the case. Besides that, she could see both of their auras as she looked at them. They glowed brightly, as if being near one another made them both glow more beautifully.

"You know that's not true." Tara admonishes her. "You saw how he was when she died, Willow." Willow winces at that, not at the thought of Spike, but obviously at the thought of Buffy's death. "He was as broken about it as the rest of it. More...even, in some ways."

Willow bites on her lip. "He loves her." She says, almost resignedly.

Tara's eyebrow raises. It was the first time she had heard one of the Scoobies talk about it like that. Sure, Spike's feelings for Buffy had been talked about in the group before, but the others (not Tara, never her. She could never dissuage someone's feelings of obvious love for someone) had always talked about it scoffingly, like he was delusional about it, in a context where they obviously believed that vampires couldn't truly feel, truly love.

Tara knew that was a load of bull; the moment she saw Spike talk about Buffy she saw him brighten from within, with an intensity that almost hurt to look at. It often made her wonder what 'souls' (at least in the case of vampires) actually  _did._  He could obviously, love, and love well. And now...well, he, like Buffy,  _glowed._

She glances back at the direction of Buffy's room and can only hope that the two of them could find some sort of common middle, common ground. And from the looks of them in her bedroom, it looked like they had-tentatively? strongly?-started to.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She feels something pull away from her and moans, trying to grasp at it. She opens her eyes and sees Spike looking at her, shock on his face. Instantly she feels her insides grow cold. Did he...was he angry somehow? Or disgusted? He didn't want to be around her anymore?

"Spike-"

"Thought you'd have thrown me out on my arse by now." Spike says, almost sheepishly.

She stops and shakes her head. "No, of course I wouldn't." He raises a brow at her and she flushes, insides now squirming with a beginning heat. "I mean, why would I? Unless uh, you copped a feel or something while I was asleep?"

He shakes his head, head on his elbow now while he looks at her.

"No. Damn," He says, but not in anger (she can see the amusement in his eyes.) "Probably should have...taken the chance while I could?"

She can see the hesitance in him saying that, but tries to reassure him with a smile (some confusion or not she did  _not_  want Spike thinking she hated him or disliked him. That much was not true and wouldn't ever be true. The rest had to be figured out, but her feelings for him were not in question.)

"Probably should have." She says lightly, amusement in her tone, poking at his arm lightly. "I mean now I'm going to have to stay up next time to make sure you fall asleep first!"

He stares at her and it takes her a moment to realize why.

"I-" She stammers. "I mean, if you-"

"Buffy! Spike!" Dawn's voice calls from far off. "Come on! Breakfast is getting cold!"

She glances at Spike and has a simple thing to say:

"Oh boy."

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


	4. Breakfast, but no Bed

Mixed Signals

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for future graphic sexual content, language, etc.

Pairing: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.

Setting: Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife, with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything inbetween.

Summary: Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?

A/N: Flashbacks in  _italics._

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Chapter Four - Breakfast, but no Bed

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If she had been the Buffy of old, before the stuff with the First and after, she'd have called this a walk of shame and would have done what she could to separate herself from Spike, making all the excuses in the world to her friends, her family.

As it was  _now,_  however, she isn't disgusted or trying to hide herself. She felt a bit sheepish, but that was because she had been caught without being able to explain herself. She wouldn't be full of excuses now, like she would have been before, but she had wanted the time to try and explain things to her friends. They were, after all, not the ones who had continued to be around Spike (and her, then Spike  _and_  her as a true couple) after the fall of Sunnydale. They didn't know the things that their future counterparts did, and had learned.

Spike's quiet they make their way down the stairs, leaving her to give him furtive glances here and there. He had gotten his shoes and the like on quickly after Dawn's call. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but she wasn't sure how. If only things could be easy, where she could be sure where she stood. She knew that he was in love with her and she loved him, but did she love  _him?_

It might be a small distinction, but to her it felt like a very important one. It was very difficult to look at him now and be reminded of the man she had left behind. This was a Spike capable of many things, to be certain, but he hadn't went through the things that the Spike she had been in love with had, with  _or_ without her.

It almost felt like a betrayal to his memory to even  _look_ at Spike, even if they  _were_  the same person. Even if this Spike was merely a Spike from a younger point in time. This Spike hadn't fought through darkness and pain to gain a soul, hadn't fought beside her against Zompires and new vampires, hadn't struggled with her in the magical internment camp, hadn't dealt with the Dragon or the Wannabe Witch who controlled it. Or-

She closes her eyes. But he  _was_ Spike. And, confusing feelings within her or not, she wouldn't let himself feel like he was worthless or less than somehow, like she had once upon a time made him feel. She stops on the second to last step as he steps on the last step to the first floor and stops him with a hand to his shoulder.

He pauses, looking at her with brows furrowed. "Slayer?"

"I'm not ashamed, Spike." She says. She can see him visibly swallow at that. "That isn't why I was anxious. It's just all...still new to me, you know? Being back here."  _Boy was it._  "And I don't want them to misunderstand."

His jaw clenches. "Right. I got it, Slayer. It-"

"No," She says, cutting him off. "No anger, Spike. I told you I wasn't ashamed and I'm not. You were...you were there for me when I needed it. Thank you." He seems to relax at that. "I just mean that, well, you know how my friends can be. And I don't want them thinking you were taking advantage of me in my state or something."

"Was I?" Spike asks in a whisper, frowning. She wasn't sure if it was rhetorical or not.

"No." She assures him. Her hand moves from his shoulder to-after a moment of thought-touch the side of his face. He looks at her with wide eyes, which makes her smile. "Like I said, thank you. I needed that. I needed to not be alone."

She moves her hand and starts to head down to the last step when he is the one to stop her this time.

"Anytime, Slayer." Spike pauses. "Buffy."

She smiles. "Good. Glad that's settled. So-" She stiffens a bit, in surprise, when she feels a cool hand touch her face briefly, but he's down the stairs and already making his way to the kitchen before she can even react (one of the uses of his vampiric speed she hadn't seen from Spike in awhile.)

" _I mean, yeah, it can be scary and stressful. But I do pretty good with scary and stressful, don't I?"_

_"I'll give you that."_

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The smell of artificial syrup hits his nose before he even makes it into the kitchen, when he  _does_  make it in, with Buffy shortly behind, he sees Dawn cheerfully making pancakes alongside Glinda. Well, mostly Glinda making them with Dawn putting plates together for everyone, but the Bit still seemed happy nonetheless.

Red was sat at the kitchen island, looking deep in thought until he gets in there. She sits up straighter and looks at him. They look at each other for a few scant seconds that somehow felt like much longer to him (it had been awhile since he had been so sized up by any of the Scoobies) before she turns away, looking over at Glinda.

He blinks, surprised. He had been  _certain_  she'd have said something to him then (even if Glinda was too kindhearted to, and Dawn the kind who didn't care. Or at least,  _this_ Dawn. She hadn't yet come to mistrust him because he hadn't attempted...what had been attempted to Buffy. At least that was no longer something that could ever happen. Even if  _he_  must live with that thought the rest of his days, at least Buffy could be free of that sort of burden in her mind.)

"Just in time!" Glinda says, with a soft enthusiasm he hadn't expected from her. She had been one of the things he had come to miss, as while she hadn't been his best friend, she had been an understanding sort. That was something he could appreciate. Now he'd have to do his best to make sure scum like Warren Meers couldn't ever be in the same  _vicinity_  with someone as pure as her. "I made extra; Dawn seemed to think that we didn't have enough."

"That's cause we didn't!" Dawn says, leaning against the sink as she watched Glinda work. "I mean between Black Hole Buffy and Bottomless Pit Spike we  _needed_  more."

"Hey, I resent that remark!" Buffy exclaims behind him. He very studiously does not turn to look at her (although he appreciated her words on the stairs more than he could say, he still felt hesitant. If not in worry of her sincerity, than because as much as he wanted to help her, he couldn't help but feel on shaky ground. He had just come back to this time and his head seemed to be feeling that still.) "I'm the Slayer! We burn off a lot of energy!"

He very  _much_  doesn't look at her now, all too keenly-and instantly-reminded of the hundred and one ways he and the Slayer had burned off energy _together._

"And 'm not a bottomless pit." Spike drawls, as he takes a seat at the island. "Unless we're talking those onion blossom things, mind."

"Eww, you can keep those to yourself." He finally glances over at Buffy as she says that, as she takes a seat next to him. Her nose was cutely scrunched up and the thought comes unbidden that he wanted to kiss her. "Wow, though. That really is a  _lot_  of pancakes."

" _Wow, move over, Sherlock Holmes."_

_"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, luv."_

He winces, rubbing at his head.

"...you okay, Spike?" Red asks.

He looks up and sees them all looking at him in equal concern. Which was certainly a new feeling. At least for him to have them of  _this_  time looking at him in open concern (for his wellbeing and not from them worrying he would turn on them first thing or something.)

Buffy's brow furrows and she reaches to touch the side of his head. "Are you okay?" She asks in concern.

He feels his breath catch, though it was something he had no need of. She was either oblivious of the stares or didn't care-the latter was the one that was most surprising but also seemed most true.

"I'm fine." He says, trying to reassure her. "Just trying to wake up still, I suppose. You lot should remember I don't run the usual hours. M' a vampire." He sits a little straighter, trying to put on a cocky look that he didn't entirely feel. It seems to do the trick for the most part, however, as Red nods, the Bit snorts and Glinda goes back to her pancakes. Buffy still looks at him, a frown between her eyes. "I'm  _fine,_  Buffy. I promise."

That seems to reassure her more and she finally nods, her head turning as Dawn lays down a sizable stack of pancakes down in front of her.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Oh crap, I gotta go or I'll be late!" Dawn exclaims, moving quickly to grab her bookbag where she had set it against the table and starts to hurry out the kitchen.

"Wait!" Buffy exclaims. "I mean, uh, what about lunch?"

"Already got it! Love you guys! Gottagobye!" The front door closes behind Dawn, leaving the others in the kitchen, Buffy looking bemusedly at everybody.

"I made it for her." Tara says. "If you wanted to-"

"Oh, no worries!" Buffy exclaims. "Feel  _more_  than free to; I was just afraid she was taking off without some. You make much better food than I do."

"You make good mac n' cheese though." Spike says, nonchalantly, as he takes another bite of his pancakes. Between them both, they probably already had several of the breakfast items, but like she had said; Slayers burned off a lot of energy. She very much does  _not_  look at Spike as she thinks this (she was already confused enough. Last thing she needed was to think of sexy fun times with him. Not that was a  _bad_  thing to think, but...agh!)

She stops as she processes that. It was a comment that seems to fly by Tara and Willow's heads but not hers. She hadn't ever cooked anything while he had been around. Not  _this_  Spike, anyhow.

"And how do you know that?" She tries to ask in a casual tone.

He visibly freezes, before taking another bite of pancakes. "Uh, Bit told me before. One of the few things she said didn't taste like paste."

"Well as much as I love her vote of confidence of that," She says drily. "I'd like to know why my culinary talents, or lackthereof, were a topic of conversation."

"Well you  _did_  tell him to stop telling her tales of his past, didn't you?" Willow points out. She had already finished her food and was sitting, seemingly contently (despite Spike's presence) next to Tara.

"I did." Buffy accede. She remembered that much, though it had been a bit of time ago for her now. Still, the ease at which he said...no, the fact that he had even said that  _at all._  While she knew the Spike of this time had previously went through her house and the like, she was pretty sure she'd have noticed if he had been around when she cooked something.

Or maybe not? She hadn't known he had been rifling through her house until she had literally bumped into him, after all. Who knew. Something about the thing felt a bit fishy, but she lets it go for now.

"Anyway," Buffy continues. "Giles is coming back home soon, right?"

"Yep," Willow says, with a smile. "I doubt he'll be happy about the million years of plane travel but to have you back? Pretty sure that's the most important thing."

"It is." She could barely hear it with her own Slayer enhanced senses, so she doubted the other two had. Spike...

"Though I don't think Anya will be so happy." Tara jokes. "She had just gotten the store from Mr. Giles, after all."

"You gotta stop calling him Mr. Giles, Tara." Buffy chides. "You're family, remember?"

Tara visibly flushes. "S-Sorry. Still a new thing to me."

Buffy smiles, grabbing her hand and squeezing it briefly before letting it go. "I know. But always remember we're family, okay?" She glances over at Spike and is surprised to catch his eyes (as surprised as he looks.) She looks at him as she continues to speak. "No matter what happens, we'll always be."

"Always." Spike whispers.

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


	5. Remembering the Fire

Mixed Signals

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for sexual content, language, etc.

Pairing: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.

Setting: Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife, with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything inbetween.

Summary: Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?

A/N: Flashbacks in  _italics._

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Chapter Five - Remembering the Fire

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She was a bit nervous to see Giles again. She had managed to patch things up with him in her original time, in the future of  _this_  timeline, after a lot of pain and strife and tears but they had did it and she had felt they had become closer than ever. Much more like a father and daughter team (despite his looks on the outside of looking like a teenager.)

But she had grown a lot since Giles ( _this_  Giles) had seen her and part of her didn't want to be a disappointment to him. The other part was worried he'd be a disappointment to  _her._  It had taken her a long time to completely forgive him for working with Robin Wood against Spike like that. This Giles hadn't done that yet but he was  _capable_  of it.

And if she was to survive in this old, but new, world, then he,  _and_  the others, had to soon realize that Spike meant something to her. Spike was a non-negotiable, being a 'different' Spike or not. He was her world. He had saved her time and again and she had been through too much to even  _think_  of losing him again, in  _any_  way.

Speaking of Spike... he had yet to leave her side yet today. After breakfast she had gotten dressed and ready to go with the others to the Magic Box and he had been downstairs, all decked out in his duster (and blanket, because of the sun.) He had smiled at her, but almost absently. He seemed to have a lot on his mind. Not that she didn't, because she certainly did, but her curiosity (and ever driven desire to know more) made her wonder what was bothering him.

He had seemed a bit distant during breakfast, in some pain even. What could trouble him so? Was it all due to her resurrection and return? She remembered how he took it the first time and this was not like that. Not really. She and he kept missing each other, for all that he had slept in her bed with her last night. She didn't want these mixed things to keep happening.

After she spoke with Giles, she  _really_  needed to talk to Spike.

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For half a second, she could have swore Giles had super strength, with the force in which he hugged her close. She holds back tears as she sees his trail down his face. He only starts to wipe away at them when he finally pulls away from her.

"I'm sorry, my dear." Giles says, removing his glasses from his face and wiping them down.

"I understand. I mean, for once I got to the Magic Box early!" She jokes.

He lets out a bit of a startled laugh at that, putting his glasses back to his face. The others were mysteriously not around the back anymore, having obviously left while she and Giles had looked at each other.

"Yes, well, there is that." He says in a dry, humorous tone, before sobering back up quickly. "Buffy, this is...astounding."

"Astounding and wrong, I know." She says softly.

Giles' eyes widen at that.

"What Willow did," she starts, looking away. "What she and the others did...I know it wasn't right."

"It wasn't...proper," Giles hesitates. "But don't think that I am ungrateful or unhappy you're back. I am  _more_  than-" He breaks off, emotion coloring his tone.

She smiles gently at him. "I know, Giles. Believe me, I know."

He looks back at her now. "They told you the particulars of your resurrection?"

She is the one to hesistate now. She hated to lie to him, but she wasn't quite ready to speak her whole truth just yet. So instead she opted for something that was  _mostly_  true. "I know. I know what Willow had to do to do it. What they did. It's...something I didn't ask for. But I can understand their thought behind it. Even if...it was wrong."

Something in her tone must have caught his attention, because he focuses on her with a curious look.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugs, looking away again. "They..." She pauses, biting on her lip. "They...I wasn't in Hell, when I was resurrected-"  _The first time._ "-or anywhere near it."

He looks at her confused for a moment before his eyes widen once more. He swears and starts to head towards the front of the store, where they had to be now.

"Those foolish  _children_ -"

"They didn't know, Giles."

"They  _should_  have!" He insists. "For a Slayer to...for all that _you_ have done for this world. Where else could you have gone?"

She shakes her head. "On paper that sounds good, yes. But remember how it happened when I died Giles-" She ignores his obvious wince and continues. "-I had jumped in a portal where all sorts of Hellspawn and other things were flying out of. We were getting a look at Hell itself, or Hell adjacent. There was no guarantee where I was going to end up. I don't blame them."

"You  _don't?"_

She shakes her head. "I...time has worked differently for me, away from here." She says evasively. Wasn't  _that_  an understatement? "It's helped me grow up. You can't understand it  _now,_  but believe me when I say that I don't blame them anymore."

"Do they know where you were?" He asks softly.

"No. I don't know if I want to tell them." She confesses. "They'll just feel a lot of extra guilt."

"They  _should-_ of all people, I expected  _Willow_  to respect the laws of nature the most!"

"She doesn't have a sense of magic that someone like Tara does." Buffy finally says. She was trying to figure out the best way to say it. "She didn't grow up around it. And she didn't have a teacher when she needed it. She needs help to understand it, truly."

Willow's lessening of morals the more she had gotten into magic had nearly killed her-had nearly killed them all at one point. She had gotten better after that, of course, but for awhile there it had been so very difficult to deal with.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"And why is Spike here?" Giles asks, after a few minutes of them talking about other things. By silent agreement it seemed, they had avoided talking about her having been in Heaven. Not that it was such a touchy subject for her now. She had gotten past that death wish stage of hers, after all, but she was afraid that she might say more than she was ready to about the rest of...well,  _her._  Who she was.

"Well, he's been helping the family since I've been gone, hasn't he?" She says mildly.

Giles looks rather touched at her using the term  _family_  to talk about them all, but he still looked a bit pensive.

"Well,  _yes,_ " He says, a bit reluctantly. "But now that you are back-"

"Now that I'm  _back_ , _"_ She interrupts. "Things will be different this time around. I'm not going to treat Spike like second class, Giles. And I don't want any of you to either. He helped us against Glory when he didn't have to. He risked his very _life_  to keep the secret of Dawn safe. He helped protect this family when I was dead. When he very literally had nothing to gain from it. He stays, Giles. He's family."

He looks at her astounded. "Buffy, I know that he has...helped, but don't forget about his infatuation with you. It-"

"I haven't. Not one day." She hadn't, even back then when she hadn't wanted to admit just how much she actually liked him. How much she loved him even. She had been blind, to herself even, for a very long time. "And it's not a 'infatuation'. He loves me."

"And just as much..." She swallows hard, not against a tide of shame, but of just the sheer amount of emotion, of love, she was feeling.

"I love him too." She says simply.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"And why is Spike here?"

He pauses near the doorway. He had been the volunteer to get the Watcher and Slayer and bring them back into the Magic Box proper. Well, more like he had been getting impatient and said he was going to do so. The boy had had a bit of a problem with it, but he had been outvoted by the witches and Anya.

He can only wonder, slightly anxiously, what Buffy might say. Although they had seem to gotten on since her resurrection back (she had let him sleep with her in her  _bed,_ even), that was no guarantee as to what she would say to Giles. She had often changed or held back some of herself sometimes, to make them happy (to her own detriment sometimes.)

That had changed more once they had all left Sunnydale, when-

_"That was bloody_ _**insane** _ _, that was. If you hadn't timed it perfectly-"_

_"But I did. I do everything perfectly."_

_Smirk. "I'll need to investigate that for myself."_

He winces. Left Sunnydale? What the sodding hell was he on about now? When she had left the Scoobies, briefly, maybe, when they had thrown her out. Ugh. He really had to get his head back on straight. This whole business of time travel had thrown him for a loop.

"Well, he's been helping the family since I've been gone, hasn't he?"

He looks back up and starts to listen back in, ignoring the pain running through his head now (he had gotten rather used to it over time, from the chip, after all. Wasn't a great thing to be reminded of that pain though, however.)

"Well,  _yes,_ " He does his best not to roll his eyes at the tone in the Watcher's voice. "But now that you are back-"

"Now that I'm  _back_ ,things will be different this time around. I'm not going to treat Spike like second class, Giles. And I don't want any of you to either. He helped us against Glory when he didn't have to. He risked his very _life_  to keep the secret of Dawn safe. He helped protect this family when I was dead. When he very literally had nothing to gain from it. He stays, Giles. He's family."

Why was everything blurring? That...oh. He touches a shaking hand to his eyes. The things she had said, they were everything to him.  _Everything_. Things like the past, the present, the future...what did any of that matter when he was here  _now_ and  _she_ was here now? In the end...wasn't it just that he was Spike, was William Pratt, and he loved Buffy Summers?

"Buffy, I know that he has...helped, but don't forget about his infatuation with you. It-"

"I haven't. Not one day. And it's not a 'infatuation'. He loves me."

The way she says it so simply, so easily, would take the breath away from  _anyone,_  even if they were someone like him who didn't require it.

"And just as much..."

He freezes, eyes wide. Feeling like the world had stopped. There was no way. She couldn't be-

"I love him too."

_"I've never regretted it, Buffy. Loving you. Not really. Everything I went through, to get to this place, here and now? I'd do it ten times over to be the man I am, to be worthy of you."_

He winces again. What was this? He didn't...

_The smell of fire was strong. It was in all of his senses and he was racked with pain. The only comfort this time around in the fire was that he had managed to keep Buffy away. He never wanted to cut it close, not like last time, when Sunnydale was falling around their ears._

_He opens up his eyes, coughing, and his eyes widen when he takes in the sight of Buffy running his way, pain and tears in her eyes. He could smell blood. And fire._

_"Buffy! Oh god, pet, why did you stay? I'm not worth it! You're-i love you, Buffy." He says, weakly wiping the tears from her face as best he can; a losing effort as she keeps crying. "I know that you know that, but if this is going to be the last time, I want to say it as much as I can. I love you, Buffy. I always will."_

_"I didn't forget, y'know." She says, tears in her voice, her eyes. She smiles against the shine of tears, of pain, and fire and blood and she's beautiful to him, even then. The greatest love of his life._

_"What?" He breathes._

_She places her forehead against his. The roar of the Dragon was nearing. The faux-witch, Wise, was nearing them, flames trailing in her wake._

_"I love you too."_

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He cries out, collapsing to a knee, clutching his head in sheer agony as memories come flooding back. _Memories._ Memories of the fire in Sunnydale, how he had become Buffy's Champion to save her, to save everyone. Memories of his return, being stuck as a ghost and messing with Angel, becoming corporeal again, of seeing Buffy again, to see she knew he was alive. To being with her... _truly_ being with her.

All of it comes flooding back and it makes him realize that he was from much farther a time than he had thought, that he had remembered.

He  _remembered._

The door opens and he sees Buffy there. She looks down at him, concern in her eyes. She immediately kneels down, touching his face.

"Oh, Spike...are you okay?"

"Slayer." He whispers.

And collapses.

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A/N: Well this story has ended up being slightly longer than I expected it to lol. It still probably won't be  _too_  long, but we'll see!

I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


	6. Identities

Mixed Signals

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for sexual content, language, etc.

Pairing: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.

Setting: Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife, with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything inbetween.

Summary: Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?

A/N: Flashbacks in  _italics._

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Chapter Six - Identities

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Her first thought is that he had gotten hurt somehow, but she sees no wounds on him or sees any sign that he had taken any kind of injury. She grabs at him, using her strength to lift him up effortlessly, holding him close to her while she takes him into the back, sitting him carefully into one of the chairs on the left side of the room. She barely takes notice of Giles still somewhere behind her, with footsteps approaching quickly as well.

"Spike?" She says to his still form. To see a Spike that wasn't so animated as he usually was (when he was asleep excepted), disturbed her. He was, despite being a vampire, more full of life than pretty much anyone she had ever known.

"Woah, what happened?" Xander asks somewhere behind her. "We under attack?"

"Is everything okay?" Willow asks.

"Is Spike okay?" Anya asks. There's a pause. "What? Not everyone hates him like the rest of you do."

"I don't know." Buffy says, biting her lip in worry. What could have caused him to collapse? He was a Master level vampire. Not much would take him down so quickly.

"What about-"

"Maybe we should-"

"Guys, I really don't think we should-"

"Buffy, dear, just let him-"

"Shut up." She says without thinking. She turns to see them looking at her with astonishment. She smiles a bit guiltily. "Sorry, just...a lot of voices all at once wasn't helping me think. I-"

She hears a faint groan next to her and glances back at Spike for a moment before looking at the others, making her decision then. "I think he's stirring now. If I need you guys, I'll yell for you, okay?"

Xander looked displeased at that, it being about Spike she was sure, but Willow gives him a look, after seeing Buffy was giving the Determined Eyes, and they all, even Giles, eventually file out.

She turns back to look at Spike, still kneeling in front of his chair, when he finally opens his eyes. Her breath is taken from her as she looks into his devastatingly blue eyes. He looks at her almost solemnly for a moment, before his hand moves to touch some of her hair. She freezes and he does too, frozen in place, him looking unsure at her now.

"Spike." She whispers.

He seems like he wants to say something, but as if he is frozen in place, he doesn't say anything.

"Are you okay? Are you...you collapsed. Are you okay?" She repeats.

He shakes his head, looking at her as if he had never seen anything before, so astonished he looked as he looks deeply into her eyes.

"Spike, please, you're really worrying me here, okay? I'm not used to a quiet Spike." She jokes.

His throat works hard for a moment and he shakes his head. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he speaks.

"Do you...know anything about a Dragon? Or a madwoman named Wise?"

She stiffens in shock.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"You...how do you know those things?" She asks hoarsely.

He had put the thought out there, but hadn't expected anything but for her to look at him in confusion. Instead she looks like she's just seen a ghost. She couldn't. It wasn't possible. She had been resurrected by her Scooby friends. She had been in a Better Place. There was no way she should have known about-

"She thought she was a witch, just because she had stolen all that power." Buffy whispers, eyes looking large and almost innocent in her face.

His eyes widen.

"Well," He says, finding the words hard to get out. Not the content, but just because of the shock he was in. He wanted to see what else she might say. It seemed all but a given, but still...he couldn't comprehend it. There was  _no way._  "What about when everyone lost their memories?"

She snorts. "Because of Willow, you mean. I called myself  _Joan,_  of all things. I was all with the martyrdom complex even  _then._ And you were Randy."

He starts. "What?"

She raises a brow at him. " _Randy Giles_." She giggles.

He groans. "Of course you'd remember that the most."

She bats at his leg a bit. "Well, what about the time the Buffybot was around-"

"So we're just going through the lists of my screwups now, are we?"

"If you want!" She exclaims brightly.

She looks at him with a smile and such a  _warm_  look that he can't help but laugh. A deep belly laugh like he hadn't had in a very long time.

It really sinks in then, just like that.

"It's really you then." He says.

She sobers back up just as quickly, but the smile doesn't leave her face. Instead in deepens into something deeper, more personal, more intimate. She holds his face in her hands, smiling all the while, even when the tears start to fall down her face.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too." He says, ignoring the tears on his own face now. He pulls her up from the floor, putting her in his lap, leaving them face to face. His eyes close as he kisses one of her hands. "I love you, Buffy."

"William." He opens his eyes to look at her, stunned as at the sheer amount of feeling in her eyes. "I love you too."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"So...what do we do then? How did you get back here, Slayer?" He asks her.

She looks up at him. She had been in his embrace for minutes now. Precious minutes that she had never thought she'd get again. Not with the Spike she had known. But miraculously, surprisingly...he was here, with her. There was no doubt of that. The how of it, the why's...

"I don't know." She responds honestly. "You were there in that moment, with the Dragon-" His arms tighten around her. "I don't know how I got here. I just woke up in my coffin."

She could all but  _hear_  his frown. "That you had to go through that again-"

She shakes her head. "That doesn't matter now. It's past. So you don't know either then?"

"No. Just came to here, as the chaos was going on all around me with the biker demon's. Just in the dark about that as you, I guess. I figured..."

He pauses so long it causes her to look up.

"Figured what?"

"You'd have gone on back to Heaven. I was always prepared for that. Well," he amends. "Not  _ready_ , but I knew it'd happen. To have you for as long as I could on this Earth was all I could have ever hoped for-"

"I wouldn't have gone." She murmurs, head moving to rest against him now.

"What?"

"I wouldn't have left you. If, for whatever reason, despite your Champion status, you didn't go to Heaven or any heavenly plane after death, then I would have followed after you."

She relishes his arms around her then, feeling the presence of him in a way that nothing else could comfort her or make her feel better.

"Buffy." He says, voice choked.

"William." She says, moving her head against him now.

"I don't deserve you." He whispers.

"I could say the same." She looks back up at him. "You've put up with a lot of my...less than desirable traits too, you know."

He looks like he's going to say something then-and she can guess the direction of what-but he instead shakes his head.

"Looks like we're in the same boat then." He finally says.

She nods.

"So...where do we go from here?"

"Why are we back here?"

For both those questions, she had no answers.

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


	7. Breakthrough

Mixed Signals

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for sexual content, language, etc.

Pairing: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.

Setting: Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife, with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything inbetween.

Summary: Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?

A/N: Flashbacks in  _italics._

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Chapter Seven - Breakthrough

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Um, everything okay?" Willow asks, when they finally leave the training room.

They kind of glance at each other for a moment before Buffy nods.

"It's good." Buffy assures her. "But I'm going to make sure he gets settled at his crypt okay. I'll be back soon."

"Can't he go by himself?" Xander asks. "He's all of the..." He waves his hand at Spike. "Looking fine, you know?"

Spike shrugs. "Don't you know by now not to argue with the Slayer? She's stubborn."

Buffy snorts. "Says pot to kettle."

"Never denied it, luv." Spike says, smirking.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Weird. That was weird, right?" Xander asks the rest of them as Buffy and Spike leave (taking the way that led to the sewers even, so there was less chance of Spike having to be near sunlight.)

"Xander-" Willow starts.

"Why would it be? He is in love with her. And she obviously has some kind of feelings for him," Anya says, in an almost disinterested tone, flipping through some sort of magazine from her position at the store counter. "I don't see the issue."

"The  _issue,"_ Xander says. "is that he's a soulless bloodsucker who is-"

"What's wrong with being a vampire?" Anya asks, to Xander but also in general as well. "I don't understand all of you and your obsession with it being 'wrong.'"

"Taking people's blood-" Giles starts now, before getting interupted by Anya.

"And what if it's willing? There's plenty of willing donors out there." Anya says, waving a hand. "What makes a human better than a vampire? Or any non human? I love you, Xander. And I tolerate the rest of you pretty well, but what makes you better than the rest of us?"

"Ahn, you're human too."

"I'm mortal," Anya says, blandly. Obviously not happy with that fact even now, if only for the fact that it meant she would continue to grow older. A fact which terrified her. "Not human. There is a difference. My powers were stripped from me. But I wasn't turned back human. I'm a Demon with no Vengeance Demon powers."

That statement stops Xander cold for a moment, surprised.

"I never thought of it that way, but you're right." Willow says.

"Of course I am." Anya breezes. "But that isn't the point here. The point is...your morality? Is that it? What makes humanity better?"

"The soul?" Xander asks, but his tone is much more unsure now.

"Humans aren't the only ones with souls. Demons can have them too. And we've seen that vampires can get them too. Demons, vampires...we might be driven more by more primal desires or wants with less thought of what people think of us, but we think. We  _feel."_  Anya says, tapping her chest for emphasis.

"I kept biting my tongue about it, since I didn't want to get into an argument, but my side is just as important as  _yours._ You, all of you, continually think you know better in the face of those who are older than you, who have  _been_  in places, times you never have. You tell me I'm wrong. You tell Spike he is wrong. That vampires can't feel anything real. That demons can't try and be something different either."

"How would you know better than those who are the ones in those shoes, not you?" She continues, in a passionate tone, unable to stop herself now. "Why do you continually duck your head in the sand when it's things you don't want to hear, but they are true?"

"Ahn." Xander tries again, obviously stunned, as were the others, but Anya ignores him.

"I love. I may not do it in the way you like sometimes, but I love. So why can't someone like Spike? The soul doesn't do what you think it does. You take things for granted because you don't know what it's like to be  _Other,_  but we're not that different from you. And I can tell you that vampires can love as well as a demon can. As well as a human can. We might do it more  _selfishly_  or in our self-interest sometimes, but humans can do that too. But we  _love."_

"Why are you defending, Spike?" Xander asks, bewildered.

"Because I love you, Xander Harris." Anya wails. "And you're being stupid!"

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Anya storms off after that, heading into the back storage room in a huff, leaving a stunned group quiet for a few moments.

"Well," Willow says. "I guess she feels better after getting all of that off her chest."

"And she's right." Tara says quietly, leaving the others to turn to look at her. She nearly wilts under the sudden pressure of eyes, but the Tara that they had first met was not the Tara of now and she stiffens her shoulders and resolve in a way that she never could have done before she had met them, met Willow.

"I never wanted to say anything either, but...maybe it's because I wasn't here in the beginning, but I have never seen Spike, or other vampires, in the way you all have either. Maybe because I never witnessed things like Angelus first hand or Spike at his worst in Sunnydale, but all I have ever seen are walking, talking,  _feeling,_  beings when looking at vampires. Just like humans. They may be the animate dead, but they're still  _alive_  in their way and filled with emotions just like the rest of us. It may be more selfishly centered sometimes, like Anya said, but...that doesn't mean it isn't as important, as  _real,_  as a human's feelings."

"I can sympathize with Anya and with Spike. I know what it's like to be an outsider."

"Baby," Willow says, grabbing Tara's hand.

Tara squeezes her hand. "I don't feel the way I used to about it. Just stating a fact. I had to find my place in the group, just like Anya did. But all of you have never given Spike the chance to find his, even when he's since proven he deserves a place in it."

"He loves her." Tara tells them. "And...I can't say what the depth of her feelings are, not completely. Only she can. But there is love there, don't you think?"

"Xander," Tara says, addressing him. He starts. It was very rare she addressed him directly. "What do you want for Buffy, for your friends, more than anything? Not," She continues, as he starts to speak. "With your feelings of Spike or any one else in the mix. Put those aside. What do you want for those you care about?"

He swallows, looking uncomfortable for a moment, before speaking.

"I..." He sighs. "I just want everyone to be happy."

"Then let her be happy."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"I think they suspect something. The rest of them, I mean." Spike tells her, when they reach his crypt. They had come through the sewers, which hadn't been fun, but she wasn't about to risk Spike to sunlight, even for a moment. Not after finally getting him back again.

"Probably." She says, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. It was as big and comfy feeling as she remembered. Maybe even more so, given that she was no longer in the mindset she was the first go around, when she'd rather have sex with Spike on the floor than even  _look_  at the bed. Because back then, it made her think of intimacy, caring, and she had shied away from that. She had wasted so much time back then. Time she could have had with him. So much time wasted...

"Doesn't bother you?"

She gives him a look. "Uh... _no._  We've long since passed the Buffy Is Wrongfully Ashamed of Her Feelings for William Pratt at the last stop of this train. We've now arrived at the Buffy Loves You More Than She Can Ever Put Into Words stop. And it's a stop we can never leave. Just so you know."

"Is that right?" He whispers.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He kneels down in front of her, taking her hands in his. The coolness of his hands against her warm skin only grounds her further, reminding her that this was Spike in front of her. That she was truly with the person she loved more than anything or anyone. The person that she had promised her life to.

"Your life?" He says softly.

Had she said that aloud?

"You've given me your heart." Spike says. He looks up at her. "Will you give me your future?"

Her breath catches. "William-"

"I don't-" He swallows. "I still swim against the tide of my own insecurities." In that moment he sounded neither of William, the human poet, or Spike, the passionate vampire, but something inbetween. "But if you'll let me...I'll spend the rest of my eternity making you happy."

"Only if you let me make you just as happy." She kisses his trembling hands. "Give me your heart and I promise I won't ever bruise it. Give me...give me your everything."

"You already have it." He kisses her hands now, their hands tangled together as much as their hearts had become. "Anything I have. Anything I will ever have." He kisses her hands again, reverently.

He leans up, his mouth taking hers with such a gentleness that it nearly brings tears to her eyes. If somehow, in all these years of knowing him and loving him, she somehow doubted his feelings for her, this moment would have told her with such utter certainty the truth of his love of her. The sincerity.

"Marry me?" He asks softly against her mouth. Trembling as he trembled, as she trembled.

"Yes."

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I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice


	8. Hells Bells

Mixed Signals

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for sexual content, language, etc.

Pairing: Spike/Buffy Summers (main), Willow/Tara, etc.

Setting: Bargaining pt 2/Afterlife, with spoilers up to Season 11 of Buffy, Season 11 of Angel and anything inbetween.

Summary: Two people who were never supposed to meet. She had seen everything, up to the Dragon that destroyed everything she loved. He had only the lasting memory of her words of love before he burned to cinders. Could they bridge the gap between them?

A/N: Flashbacks in  _italics._

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Chapter Eight - Hells Bells

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"They're not going to be happy." Buffy says idly as they continue the walking they had been doing for the past few minutes.

Spike pauses briefly, brow raised. "Did you want to-"

" _No."_ She tells him. "This is...well, if they forgive us, they'll forgive us. But I want to be with you."

He seems to glow a bit at that, his eyes alight with love for her as he briefly touches her face.

"Love you." He murmurs.

"I love you too."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She hadn't ever known about this place, the first time around. They were deep underground in Sunnydale's underbelly. Not near the Hellmouth, but closer still to the fallen churches that had once been the dwelling place of The Master. There was a set of catacombs, from what she could see, as they pass further and further. She sees a few people here and there; demons, vampires, other people still who were perhaps human or half-human, all sorts.

None acknowledge her directly, which she can't blame them for, considering her status as the Slayer. One of the things she had decided shortly after returning to this time and place was to change a lot of her former ideals and the like. She wanted to find more of a common ground in a place where she hadn't ever let there be one before.

She sees panels of stained glass, like the ones in old churches. These were not paned with the depiction of the Virgin Mary or Jesus or other Christian ideology, but were instead beautifully done with depictions of various things in nature or the like; trees, the sky, wolves, the sun...all were different things on each pane but they didn't clash. Instead the mosiac of colors and things blended together to find this harmonious whole.

"All of this beauty..." She murmurs. Things like this, that she hadn't once known about, the beauty of these things...she felt cheated for a moment that she hadn't known them until now. But still, she was  _able_  to know them now, so she shouldn't feel so cheated, should she? "Did you...I mean..."

Spike looks over at her, concern in his face. "Slayer?"

"Did you...come here with someone else before?"

His face clears and he looks at her with tender eyes. "No, pet. Not in the way you mean." Her shoulders relax at that and he continues. "Dru could be particular about churches sometimes, in her mania, after all that Angelus had did to her, but places like this...she never wanted to come here."

He pauses long enough that she prompts him to speak again. "Spike?"

He starts a bit, shaking his head. "Sorry, luv. What was I saying?"

"What were you thinking?" She asks quietly.

"I kept thinking I'd like to bring you here, back then, when I first realized I loved you." He says, looking away from her, his eyes on the colored panels of glass. "Never much thought you would ever  _want_  to, but I still hoped..." He visibly swallows. "I was born a romantic man and I...never lost that. Always wanted to find a place to be with the person I loved, to know just how much they reciprocated that love."

"Thought about it even more," He continues. "After you jumped. When I would be on my own after making sure Bit was alright for the night. The nights kept me up as bad as the days then. I'd think of how to save you. I wouldn't fail that time. And then...sometimes you wouldn't say anything, but you'd let me lead you by the hand and I'd show you all these things, things that demons made, that vampires made, to show you that we could make beautiful things to. That we could do things besides  _break them._  I'd show you..."

He cuts off, emotion clogging his voice and she reaches out for him, his face in her hands. He looks at her with eyes that pierce through her. Even if he didn't have his soul, he'd still be full of these deep and full emotions. He  _had_  been feeling these things before, back when she hadn't wanted to acknowledge him as being a real,  _feeling,_  being. When she had been so stuck on her own loathing for herself, for being pulled out of Heaven, that she hadn't acknowledged the one person who would always accept her unconditionally; good or evil, happy or sad, everything...

"It's beautiful, William. Thank you for showing me. Thank you for  _sharing_  this. It's wonderful."

"You mean it?" He whispers, the soft boy who hadn't ever lost the desire for love, no matter how much arrogance and swagger he affected in his daily life.

"A hundred percent." She promises him, stroking his dear face. "We waited a long time for it, didn't we? But I'm glad. I'm glad you brought me here to this place when I could properly appreciate it and it's beauty. Thank you. I can't think of any other place now where I'd want to marry you."

His eyes close briefly and he kisses her hand before opening his eyes back, smiling at her. She pulls her hands back, taking one of his in her own. His cool grip a steadying, loving, presence as it had become to her.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The panels of glass lead to a stone alcove far in the back, with a single wooden door. It looked like a simple wooden door, by all she could see. She looks at him, a question in her eyes.

He nods to the door, his hand never leaving hers. "Open and see, luv."

Her curiosity was even more piqued now and she walks forward, hand in hand with Spike, using her free hand to grab at the door handle. It opens easily and quietly. Instantly the tableau of mosaic glass she had seen beforehand was  _nothing_  compared to the size and beauty of the glass here. It was like an interwoven tapestry of fire and beauty, leading to the largest panels of stained glass she had ever seen.

The largest pieces of the slowly growing glass, with the smaller glass on either side of the room and getting larger the further you walked into the room, had the biggest depictions she had ever seen on stained glass. To the left held the Egyptian God Ra, the God of the Sun, the creator deity of Egyptian mythology. In his hands were not the implements associated with him. Rather, he held the sun in his hands.

His hands held the sun, the symbol of life, out to an Egyptian figure that looked sort of familiar to her, but one she couldn't place.

"Who is...?" She starts to ask.

"Neith." Spike tells her. "One of the other major creator deities in Egyptian myth. Usually people put Ra with Sekhmet or Hathor, which made me like this thing even more to see something different."

"A whole Egyptian worshipping place in the depths of Sunnydale?" Buffy murmurs. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Especially since Ra is God of the Sun. But why is he handing over the sun to her? Doesn't the sun usually set on the top of his head?"

He nods approvingly at her, the poet-scholar still there, despite the additions of leather and swagger. "Usually, yeh. Can't think of another depiction of Ra where he's done something like this. But he's handing over the sun to her. It's a sign of equality. Of sharing. Showing that he wants to share everything with her. Share his life with hers."

He looks at her now much more intently, making her heart beat all the faster.

She outstretches her hands, mirroring the much, much larger hands above them of Neith's which are stretched out to grab the sun, the life, that Ra was holding out to her-and grasps Spike's hands, accepting the shared life he wanted to live with her.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

In the long moments, before she became the Slayer, and the short moments,  _after_  she became the Slayer, she allowed herself to think of what her wedding might be like, she had often imagined this grand affair with the usual Cinderella like dress and throngs of people in the pews as she stood next to the person she loved, pledging her love eternally to them.

When she had been younger, it had either been faceless maybes, or faces of celebrities she saw in that role, when she had been a bit older (but still very naive in a lot of ways) it had been Angel she saw in that role. When Willow had cast her spell, it had, funnily enough,  _grounded_  her then; during that time, in that spell she thought of a wedding in much more mature terms than she had before that. And during that spell she had been able to showcase the love for Spike which had blossomed sometime before, but she hadn't recognized-a love which, after the spell's end, she had once more denied to herself as being real.

But here now, in the catacombs of Sunnydale's underbelly, instead of finding herself in the large- _idealized_ -dress, instead she finds herself _shedding_  clothes, her mouth finding Spike's again and again as their hands search each others bodies. It had been so long since she had last felt his touch, in a way that didn't remind her of fire and loss.

His hands are a cool balming touch against her heated skin as his mouth moves over hers desperately, their hands desperate and needing as they touch each other, needing that grounding touch, to remind them that they weren't alone, that they had each other, that they hadn't lost each other.

"Never again." She says against his mouth, barely tasting the saltiness of tears that had fallen from her eyes or from Spike's. "I'll never be without you again."

"I promise." He says, shuddering as she sheaths him inside of herself, resting his hands to either side of her body, holding her up in place as she begins to slowly move atop him. "Never leave you alone again. Never. No matter the circumstance."

"I promise." She says, her hands on the back of his neck to pull him back to her, kissing him deeply. She pulls back enough so she can look into his beautiful blue eyes. "No matter the circumstance. I will love you, William Pratt, until the breath leaves my body. And even after. Forever after. My..." She gasps against the build of pleasure of their joined bodies. "My eternity to yours."

"I will love you, Buffy Summers, for the whole of my eternal life. And even after. And I've been dust before. If I'm ever dust again...I'll still find my way back to you, through whatever means. I won't let you be alone again. I promise. My eternity to yours."

They kiss again, as the pleasure reaches its end, making them both cry out, the waves of pleasure crashing deeply through them both. They stay like that for a long moment, clutching each other as the pleasure begins to slowly fade and kiss, a kiss that was probably the most important kiss of her life, the most sweet, the most  _mature_.

She loved William Pratt with all of her heart.

"I do." He says, smiling at her.

"I do." She breathes, kissing him again.

It had been worth it, in the end, to go through the confusion and wonder and mixed signals, to lead back to this point, to find him again, that, however the road had been hard and bumpy in many places, it had been all worth it to find the person she loved most in this world.

And while her story would continue, that Spike's story would continue, that the road would continue from here, for now...she had this slice of peace and happiness and brief moment of reprieve.

She had found her true piece of Heaven.

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A/N: I want to thank everyone who has been on this road with me, reading the story as it's unfolded and evolved! I honestly have to say that this kept turning in directions I didn't expect, but that I love even more so that it did that. I might do a sequel to this at some point, as there is a lot of material I can continue on with to do so, but that is something that will unfortunately have to be on the backburner for so I can continue-and finish-other things I am working on now!

Thank you so much everyone for your support and for reading!

I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have been writing this!

-PhoenixJustice


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